


All You Have to do is Fall in Love (play the game)

by no_big_deal



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Dry Humping, F/M, French Kissing, Historical Roleplay, Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:29:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26202691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/no_big_deal/pseuds/no_big_deal
Summary: Rose has caught feelings for her housemate, Armitage Hux--hopelessly unreciprocated feelings. But one afternoon, Hux is sorting through some family heirlooms and, well, this might just be the perfect opportunity to tell Hux how she feels. The only question is, are their kisses as real for him as they are for her, or is he just playing the game?
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Rose Tico
Comments: 31
Kudos: 57
Collections: GingerRose Kink Weeks





	All You Have to do is Fall in Love (play the game)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [La Belle Dame sans Merci](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25960678) by [caramel_sins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/caramel_sins/pseuds/caramel_sins). 



> Content warning: mention of aging, mortality, assisted living facilities
> 
> Yes hello friends welcome to what is sure to be the least kinky entry in Gingerrose Kink Weeks series, this incredibly wholesome tale of Rose and Hux bonding over the themes of home and family. 
> 
> Many thanks to [CelestialMess](https://twitter.com/celestialmess1) for helping me talk through some story choices--you're the best babe! And thanks to everyone on the Gingerrose Discord for their patience as I complained about this story for way too long. 
> 
> Of course a super thank you to Caramel Sins for saying it was okay if I riffed on her gorgeous work "La Belle Dame sans Merci," for this fic. I hope you approve & enjoy!

Rose was lounging on the couch when she heard Armitage's car pull up in the driveway. _He’s back,_ she thought, her heart leaping happily as she hopped up to greet him, before forcing herself to take a few steps away from the window. He'd think it was weird if she waved at him before he got to the door like some cheesy 1950s era housewife. 

In reality, they were simply roommates who met a few months ago when she responded to his Craigslist ad. 

He’d been seeking someone to share rent on his two bedroom bungalow. All she knew was that he was a computer programmer with a cat. She’d expected him to be the type of guy that subsisted entirely on Hot Pockets and was attached at the hip to his Xbox; those expectations were entirely dashed when he turned out to be literally the handsomest man she’d ever seen in real life, exceptionally easy to talk to, with a sexy accent to boot. 

So, yeah, they were roommates. And she was the roommate with the ridiculous, and _very_ unrequited crush. She liked him enough that she _missed_ him even though he hadn't even been gone a week. 

He was such a good guy. He'd been visiting his parents, helping them move his grandmother into an assisted living facility. It wasn't what any of them wanted, but his Grandma Hux’s health was precarious, deteriorating, and needed expert supervision, twenty four hours a day. The home was nearby, but still. He’d said that it would be a tough adjustment.

So yeah, Armitage: devoted and responsible, and just _so much so_ that sometimes her crush felt a little less like a crush and a lot more like love. But she set it aside. He was going through a lot right now and didn't need her adding to his problems by making their relationship awkward, especially when he'd never given her any reason to think he liked her _that way._

Rose contented herself just to smile as he came in the house, carrying a cardboard box underneath his arm and a duffel bag over his shoulder. She felt her cheeks flush as they greeted each other. Reaching out her hand for the duffel bag, his fingers brushed against hers; blushing, she swung her hair to hide her face as she placed the bag out of the way. 

"Mmm," he groaned, stretching his now free arm up above his head. His dark t-shirt rode up slightly displaying a sliver of skin. The sight and sound of him caused everything below Rose's waist to feel liquid and hot, and she watched him greedily, her lips slightly parted. 

"That drive was interminable. So glad to be here, finally." His bright green eyes firmly fixed on hers. “It’s good to be home.” He didn’t look away; it was like he was trying to tell her something, but she couldn't figure out what.

Flustered, she dropped her eyes to the package he still held. "What's in the box?" she asked as he dropped his keys on the table just inside the door. 

"Some belongings of my grandmother's." He shrugged. "Momentos and things my mom didn't have time to look through. I told her I'd get it sorted." He set the box to the side. "How was Millicent?"

Rose laughed. "Perfect as always. She's around here somewhere I'm sure." 

He smiled, causing her heart to stutter in her chest. She wished he wouldn't do that—look at her all fond and grateful—her heart read too much into it. She reminded herself that this was just Armitage being Armitage. He had good manners and was so charming and polished. All those things she really wasn't, which was probably why he hadn't shown any interest. 

He took a step forward. "Thank you—"

"Please, don't," she said, waving her hands. "It was no trouble and I was happy to do it. You were helping family, there's nothing more important than that."

He took another step closer and she was frozen to the spot. His hand came up and settled on the side of her shoulder and she prayed he couldn't see how she was trembling. At least this close he couldn't see her face; she shut her eyes with a grimace as her heart clenched painfully. He was just _too much._

His fingers were five points of heat blazing through the thin material of her t-shirt. Leaning forward, he dropped a quick kiss at her hairline and Rose's higher brain functions cut out. This was new, kissing was new. 

"Well, I still appreciate it," he mumbled. "I, I missed…" he trailed off.

"Millicent?" she supplied, her voice both loud and squeaky. "Next time I'll text you some pictures." She took a step back, causing his hand to fall from her arm. His face looked a little lost and she panicked. "Here, are you hungry? Let's get you inside—you want to get something to eat?" 

*~*~*~*~*

Hux deposited the takeout containers in the trash as Rose fell back onto the couch and queued up an episode of _Nature_ , featuring different types of ducks.

He took a deep breath. The last week had been a revelation, to say the least. A week with his parents and aging grandmother had brought about the realization that time was a precious commodity. That people wouldn't be in your life forever. 

Not only that, but over the week, he'd missed the companionship of his roommate more than he could have expected. He’d always thought she was the perfect mix of alluring and cute, but that feeling had grown, expanded. He’d been unable to shake the feeling that she should have been there with him. 

He'd wondered what it would be like to have Rose—adorable, funny, hard-working Rose—with him, on this trip. As a girlfriend, or fiancée, or… more. Supporting his family. Lying in his parents' guest room bed. By his side in all things.

He was an idiot. He hadn't even realized she was the girl of his dreams until he'd had to spend a few days without her—and he'd left her back home to clean the cat box. And still she'd greeted him with a smile and made sure he was fed and comfortable. She was an angel.

Last night, he'd palmed his cock, too tired to castigate himself for concocting vivid fantasies about her lovely eyes and ruby lips, as he drifted off to sleep.

So seeing her again, coming home to her, had been a confirmation of all his week-long dreams. When she'd smiled at him as he'd come through the front door he knew he wanted to come home to her every day for the rest of his life. He knew now that he wanted her. That he'd do anything for her.

He knew now he was in love. 

But she'd never shown any interest in him in that regard. She was so friendly and respectful and careful— so much so that she couldn't possibly be attracted to him.

He swallowed, jamming his hands in his pockets. She had run off when he'd kissed her earlier; he'd crossed a line and it pained him to think he'd ruined his chance by giving into a spur of the moment impulse. That was something he never did but somehow Rose was the exception to all the rules. 

So if she wasn't attracted to him—and who could blame her, ginger beanpoles weren't anybody's first choice—he would have to woo her. Form an emotional bond. Find an opportunity to let her know how he felt. He wouldn't waste any more time. 

Her bubbly voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Last time I had this show on, Millicent sat in my lap for half an hour," she announced proudly as he entered the room.

"Lucky cat," Hux mumbled before he could stop himself. 

"Hmm?" Rose looked up. “What was that?”

"It was nothing," he said with a small smile, looking down at her, lying on her side on the couch. Her dark hair flowed over her shoulders and breasts. Her position accentuated her denim-clad curves, her hips and ass. His fingers, thankfully still stuffed in his pockets, twitched with the desire to squeeze her luscious body and pull it towards his. 

He sat down on the edge of the couch, near her feet, and pulled the cardboard box towards him, muttering, "Let's see what we have here."

*~*~*~*~*

Rose sat up, tucking her legs underneath her and watched with interest as he pulled an item out of the box. It was a thin black case about the size of his hand. Inside, there was a medal, shaped like a star. It was affixed to a faded ribbon and Hux squinted to read the script on the inside. 

"I can't make it all out," he said, bringing the box closer to the light. "But this says it's a British army medal for service in France in 1915." 

Rose's eyes widened in shock. "It's over a hundred years old?"

Hux nodded slowly, pulling what looked like a long and flat leather wallet from the box. "This medal must have belonged to my great-great-grandfather. I remember Grandma said her grandfather served in the British army during World War One."

"Incredible," Rose whispered. "What else do you know about him?"

Hux chuckled. "I was named for him. I just learned that this week." He gently flipped open the leather wallet. Inside was a picture. "And here he is," Hux sighed. "Major Armitage Hux."

Rose slid closer into Hux's side so she could get a better look. When she focused on the fading picture, she gasped aloud. 

"You look just like him," she breathed, taking in Major Hux in his army cap, his dark jacket over a collared shirt and tie. His gloved hands held a baton of some sort under one arm.

She looked up at him. They were now side by side on the couch and his face was very close. Blushing, she held a finger over the ancient picture, careful not to touch. 

"The eyes, nose—" She bit her tongue before she embarrassed herself talking about Hux's full lower lip or sharp jawline. "The resemblance is, is just amazing," she finished, twisting her fingers together in her lap. 

He turned the picture over. There was some faded, illegible writing on the back, but neither of them gave it a look, as there was a second picture behind the first that captured their attention.

This picture was on heavier cardstock so had faded less with time. It was a portrait of a dark-haired woman, her hair fetchingly curled and pinned up in the style of the day. Pearl drop earrings shone by the hinge of her jaw and her smile was slightly open in a way that must have been the height of seduction one hundred years ago. 

Hux's breath stuttered and Rose suddenly felt faint. 

They spoke at the same time.

"She looks just like you," Hux said with a gasp.

"She’s so beautiful," exclaimed Rose, who laughed, embarrassed. "I mean—that's—so, so, that's weird."

He flipped the picture over. Written in a looping hand it read: 

_Quand tout sera fini, trouvez-moi. Tout mon amour,_

_Rose._

*~*~*~*~*

Hux set the pictures down on the coffee table, his brain buzzing with confusion and desire. He'd been sitting too close to Rose for too long— the sweet, summery scent of her shampoo was making him dizzy. And now it looked like his great grandfather—with whom, no doubt, he bore a striking resemblance—had maybe had a love affair with a French woman named Rose? Who had sleek dark hair, a perfectly elegant round face, and was capable of devastatingly sexy smiles? There suddenly didn't seem to be enough air in the room. 

In a state of near disbelief, he reached back in the cardboard box and pulled out a small, hinged jewel case. Opening it revealed a pair of drop pearl earrings—the exact pair the woman on the postcard was wearing. He was hit with the overwhelming desire to see Rose wear them. 

"You should try them on," he said, acting on instinct, holding the box out to her. 

"Oh, I couldn't," she breathed, but Hux was already moving, lifting the first earring from the box and examining it closely. 

He slid the back of the earring away from the front. "It's a magnet," he whispered.

Turning to her, he saw her dark eyes were wide with emotion, and fixated on his. She was shaking. 

"Her name, Armitage" she whispered. "Her name is—" 

She cut off when he raised his hand, his fingertips nearly touching her cheek. He gave her an inquiring look. "Rose, I—" He hoped she would understand how much he needed this. He could hardly explain it himself. "Do you trust me?" 

At her subtle nod, he used his hand to gently brush her hair away from her face and tuck it behind her ear. She closed her eyes and inhaled a shaky breath. Hux could see her hands were fisted in her lap as she sat perfectly still for him. 

He ran a fingertip down the shell of her ear. "That's good," he whispered, as he placed both sides of the earring around her earlobe. He felt the magnet take and a tiny whimper escaped her lips as the earring lightly pinched her skin. 

Giving her earlobe a soothing rub and quickly repeating the process on the other side, Hux pulled back, his hands still holding Rose's hair as his eyes rapidly and repeatedly crossed her face in admiration. 

"Look at me Rose." Her lashes fluttered open. "Perfect." His hands fell to her shoulders. "Beautiful." 

Her lips hung slightly open in disbelief. She raised a hand to gently touch her ear, feeling the pearl hanging there tickle her jawbone. Hux felt a thrill of rightness and belonging run through him at the sight. _Yes,_ something inside was shouting, _yes, this is how it should be._

After a moment, Rose looked back down at the picture on the coffee table. "What does it say?" she asked, gesturing to the French inscription. 

This time, Hux couldn't resist; he grasped Rose's cheek in his hand, desire roiling in his gut as she leaned into his touch. He gazed into her eyes.

_"When this is all over, find me."_

*~*~*~*~*

Rose swallowed and licked her lips. "What else is there?" she managed to ask, not sure if she meant for Armitage to explain what was happening between them or for him to return to emptying the cardboard box. All she knew was that he'd been touching her so intimately, firm yet tender, and that he'd said she was beautiful. She could hardly believe it. 

He leaned down and flipped the lid open on the box. "This is all," he said, pulling out what was without a doubt Major Hux's battered army cap. The grey-green fabric was worn thin, the visor was frayed around the edge, but it was still in one piece. He gave the inside of the cap a little sniff, and apparently satisfied, he dropped it on his head.

Rose swooned. There really was no other word for it, she thought, thankful she was already seated. Something inside her just _clicked_ seeing him like this. She yearned for him, and she _knew_ that something about this was… _meant to be,_ and there wasn't any way to explain any of it. 

After watching her reaction closely, he returned to inspect the rest of the papers in the leather wallet: a few loose pages behind the picture of Rose. He pulled them forward. He held one of them up and read it aloud. 

_November, 1915— Our truck broke down just southwest of Lille. A beautiful and generous woman rendered invaluable aid to our unit. Her charms have captured my heart. When this war is over, if, by God's grace we live through the horrors that have taken so many lives, I will return and make her my wife._

While he read, Rose stood and looked out the front window, but her eyes were blurry. She hugged her arms tight around her middle. 

The paper rustled as he set it back down on the table.

"I wonder," she began, "I wonder how long she waited. If I were her and loved him—if I loved him, and hoped he felt the same—I would wait… I would wait… However long it took."

The sound of pages being delicately removed and unfolded reached her ears. 

Armitage cleared his throat. "This document says they were married in 1919. Less than six months after the war ended."

Rose's heart began to pound. "He came back to her." She didn't understand why she felt so invested in this history. Why a bittersweet churning in her heart had her throat feeling tight and her thoughts all over the place. 

Armitage was standing next to her now, turning her towards him. He still wore the cap and her smile went a little lopsided at the sight. He took her hands in his.

"For you, Mademoiselle Rose? A man would cover any distance. Overcome any obstacle." He leaned in close. "Have you been waiting for me, dearest Rose?"

He was being playful with her, Rose realized. She smiled confidently up at him, his nose an inch from hers. She could play along.

"Major Hux," she giggled. The bubbly joy the Rose of one hundred years ago must have felt when her Major Hux returned after nearly four years of waiting surged through her. "Now that we are reunited, I will never let you go." Boldly, she tugged his body close to hers. 

_"Je vais t'embrasser, Rose,"_ Hux whispered, his lips brushing against hers as he spoke. "I'm going to kiss you now."

 _"S'il te plait,"_ she moaned, speaking the only French words she could think up on the spot. "Please do." 

*~*~*~*~*

As if he'd done it thousands of times before, he captured Rose's lips with his own. Her mouth was luscious. _Delicious._ He pulled her into his arms and her hands went to his shoulders, her fingers grasping at his t-shirt. She wasn’t close enough. 

He jostled her, swinging her even closer to him, until their bodies were flush together. Bending with her, she leaned slightly backwards under the relentless pressure of his kiss. Her hair cascaded over his hands as her spine curved, and he supported her weight. 

All the while, his lips moved on hers, devouring, possessing her with the heat of his mouth. He could not get enough.

A squeak escaped her as, with a confidence he did not realize he had, his tongue moved across her lips and then swept between them. As her tongue slid across his he groaned, the sound emanating deep in his chest. She was so sweet. 

He pulled away to allow Rose to breathe and kissed his way up her jaw.

"If I'd seen you walking up the drive," she said between gasps, "I'd have run out to meet you, after so long, I'd have—" she moaned as his teeth gently sunk into the side of her neck. 

He pulled back, running his fingers roughly through her long black hair, content to keep playing their little game if she was. 

"Would you welcome me back, Mademoiselle Rose?" he asked with a wink as he began kissing her again, her jaw, her ear, her throat. 

"Yes," she gasped, as his tongue swept over her collarbone. "I would welcome you back with a kiss. All my kisses—and more—Major Hux."

"Call me Armitage," he said, as they fell in a heap on the living room floor.

*~*~*~*~*

Rose's head was spinning. She never wanted it to stop. Armitage's hands kept returning to caress her neck and ears, always gently touching the earrings before moving on. Something about her wearing the earrings had started them down this path. She never wanted it to end.

The army cap had fallen to the side. She would have felt bad about treating an antique so poorly but it was tough to care about anything right at the moment other than the way he was lying on top of her and kissing his way down her chest. 

Her hands gripped the back of his head, her fingers slotting through his hair when he suddenly stopped. His open mouth hovered just above her breasts, which strained against her t-shirt.

"Rose," he wheezed. "I'm so glad to be back."

"From the war?" She asked, wondering how she could take her shirt off while keeping him on top of her. "Yes, Monsieur, it must—" 

He pulled back. "Rose, I—" 

"Armitage," she interrupted, grabbing his hand and moving it over her painfully thumping heart. "Don't stop."

Licking his lips nervously, he looked down to where the heel of his hand rested on top of her breast. 

With a groan and a grateful curse, he allowed her to move his hand where she pleased.

*~*~*~*~*

They lay on the floor kissing for what felt like forever. Rose had slotted her legs around one of his and her little moans as she'd ground down on his thigh would haunt his dreams. When he sucked kisses down her throat she'd murmured more endearments in French and when she'd licked up the shell of his ear, he'd done the same. Desperately trying to remember some high school French had saved him the embarrassment of coming in his pants when she'd bit down on his earlobe.

Eventually, he ended up sitting against the side of the couch, his legs bent and spread wide, with Rose nestled between them, her back against his chest. He held her close, his hands squeezing her luscious breasts, his thumbs rubbing over her hardened nipples, which he could feel through her clothing.

He racked his brain, thinking over the conversation that had led up to their kiss. There was a large possibility that she'd just been caught up in the moment—or trying to cheer him up after a difficult week—by engaging in a World War One themed flirtation that they had allowed to get out of hand. He needed to dial this back, his brain told him. His mouth disagreed.

"I want you to keep the earrings," he said, after a kiss against the side of her neck that had her nearly boneless against him. He felt her tense up almost immediately. Well, _shit._

She made a shocked little sound and he tightened his arms around her middle. 

"I couldn't possibly—" she wiggled to turn to face him, but he held her tight. If she was about to break his heart he wasn't sure he could bear to have her looking at him as it happened. 

He tried again. "Please, accept them—" 

"But I haven't done anything worth—" 

He cut her off. "That's not true." He nuzzled his nose into her hair. "You've been a good roommate.” He winced. This was not the direction he wanted the conversation to go. “You took care of Millicent."

"Armitage, _please._ I couldn't, they're a family heirloom.” She inhaled sharply. “If you’re feeling bad— or, if you're regretting what just happened here—"

"That's not what this is about, Rose, please—" 

"If you're feeling guilty," her voice caught on the word, and began rising in pitch, heart-breakingly fragile. "For getting carried away, or going farther than you meant to—" 

"Rose, no. I wasn’t—"

She began to push away in earnest, and he dropped his arms as she turned to face him. "What was it then?” She wiped her eyes with the heels of her hands. “I realize you just came back from a difficult family trip so if you're just feeling… emotional, and needed to blow off some steam or whatever—"

He grasped her face in his hands, at a loss for words when her tears were falling so fast. 

"I mean, it's okay, I understand, you don't have to feel bad." She continued to sniffle as he caught her tears with his thumbs and wiped them away. "Don't worry about things getting awkward, I won't…" her face collapsed, all scrunched up as she suppressed a sob. "I'd never let feelings—"

"Rose," he interrupted. He couldn't bear to have her finish that sentence. If she'd never be interested in him that was bad enough, but the idea that she _did_ have some feelings for him and felt that she had to suppress them was easily ten thousand times worse.

So much for taking the time to woo her. 

"Rose, I— I'm falling in love with you." He licked his lips nervously, waiting for her response. 

She shook her head as he wiped the final tear away. "It's not just—"

"I'm in love with you, Rose. That's the reason. Why I shared my family history with you and why I kissed you and why I want you." He smiled. "Why I was serious when I said I'd do anything to be with you." 

She smiled at him. "I meant it too, you know." Her arms slid around his chest as she leaned in close. "I meant every word."

Before she could kiss him, he wrapped one arm around her waist and used the other to push up off the floor. He pulled her up with him until they were standing again. 

"We going somewhere?" Rose asked as he took a small step back, her hand in his. 

Hux felt his face flush. "Yes, I'd like to," he cleared his throat and looked over his shoulder at the hallway leading to their bedrooms. His fingers played meaningfully with the hem of her t-shirt, touching the warm skin just above her waist. "But, well," he nodded at their front window, open to the street. "I'm not interested in attracting an audience."

She quirked an eyebrow at him, her lips pursing in amusement. "So roleplay is fine but you draw the line at voyeurism? I see how it is, Major Hux," she teased, dragging him by the hand back to her bedroom. 

*~*~*~*~*

They fell on her bed still fully clothed and Rose wriggled to get him on top of her, desperate to feel his weight pressing her into the mattress like she'd imagined a hundred times. 

He obliged, rocking his hips into hers and they moaned in tandem. 

"You love me?" She asked between kisses. 

"Yes," he breathed into her neck. "I love you." 

She keened, rubbing against him. She'd never get tired of hearing him say that. 

"And I love you," she said, running her hands up his back under his shirt, feeling his muscles and warm smooth skin bunch up at her touch. She felt his lips curve into a smile against her temple.

A sense of rightness and relief washed over her as they undressed; their bodies seemed made for each other. She didn't want to wait any longer and she could tell he felt the same. They fed the embers of their passion until it became a roaring fire. When he entered her body, she greeted him with a welcoming cry. He had finally come home.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from [ Play the Game ](https://youtu.be/6_5O-nUiZ_0) by Queen.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Gingerrose is a wonderful ship with just the most wonderful people in its fandom! Love you all. 
> 
> [Come say hi on Twitter!](https://twitter.com/spoonfulofsalad)!


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